A Tear in the Membrane Allows the Voices In
by jenvieve
Summary: Following Peter's return, Lydia Martin finds an unlikely ally in Derek Hale. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The world changes you. One minute you're on top, happy as a clam, and the next, everything seems to be crumbling around you. You never know when it happened, only that it _did_ happen. You're left grappling with the concept, wondering if you could have done something differently, wondering if perhaps this was the way you were meant to be all along. Hurt. Helpless. Broken.

Those are words that were absent from Lydia's vocabulary up until very recently. She never thinks of herself as a wounded thing, a bird trying to fly with a broken wing. But that is exactly what she is. That is what she has become. She hates every minute of it.

She knows where the blame should be placed. Her so-called friends have brought this terror into her world. But even knowing this, even with all of the anger she feels towards them for keeping her in the dark, unable to defend herself, she knows that it is really and truly only one person's fault: Peter Hale. The name itself strikes fear through her, and she hates him for instilling such a reaction in her.

His power and his influence over her alienates her. Lydia Martin has been queen of Beacon Hills for as long as she can remember, but that reign has come to a close. She isn't Miss Popularity anymore. She isn't the most envied girl at Beacon Hills High School. She isn't even the bitchiest person to roam those hallways. No, now she's the town whackjob. Instead of envying her or fearing her, the people of Beacon Hills seem to pity her.

He's the only one who doesn't, and although she isn't sure just how she feels towards him yet, Lydia is grateful for it. Because Derek Hale is the only person who knows the true extent of her struggle, and although he should be angry for what she's done, for costing him his position as Alpha, he's understanding. It isn't in Lydia's nature to apologize, but there's something about him that compels her towards it. She resists nonetheless.

Derek's been hovering for days now. Although he never actually acknowledges it, Lydia knows that this is less for her protection and more for the protection of the rest of the town. Peter has a direct gateway into Lydia's mind, and that doesn't bode well for anyone, in the end. Still, she hates feeling as though he's babysitting her, and she doesn't have enough self-control to keep it from showing.

"If he's such a threat, why didn't you kill him?" Lydia's tone is accusatory, but Derek seems unfazed by it.

"We did. Or so we thought." He rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Well, bravo," she responds drily, clapping her hands in slow, drawn out beats. She has half the mind to point out that this could very well be the reason why he lost his position as Alpha of the pack, just to see if she can get a rise out of him (to see if _anything_ can get a rise out of him), but she decides against it. It seems to be going just a bit too far, even for her, particularly when he's showing her more attention than any of her friends have the past few months.

"Are you always this sarcastic?" He barely looks up at her as he asks.

"If it's warranted. Are you always this surly?" She tilts her head, one hand on her hip. Lydia has heard plenty about Derek Hale, although until recently, she'd never actually spoken to him. She can't remember a time where he didn't look as though he was brooding about something though, and given his family's history, she can't exactly blame him for that. Even so, it'd be nice to see him crack a smile now and then.

Derek merely gives her a look, and it's all she can do to keep from sighing. One day, she decides, she will get a smile out of him. It's her new goal.

"Whatever," she mutters, waving a hand airily. "Are we going to take care of this problem or what?"

This question seems to shake him a bit, and he drops the brooding expression long enough for Lydia to register surprise etched in his features. "_We_?" he repeats, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, _we_," Lydia replies impatiently, rolling her eyes. "Look, we can beat around the bush all we want, but this is partially my fault, and I know you have to be blaming me at least a little bit." She raises her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to protest. He opens his mouth but says nothing. With a satisfied nod, Lydia crosses her arms. "I want him gone just as much as you do. I _need_ him gone. So let's do this. Let's get rid of him."

Derek watches her for a moment, looking for any sign of reluctance, or perhaps any hint of a trap he has to worry about. Finally, he speaks. "You're still vulnerable to him."

This seems to grind Lydia's gears. Her eyes narrow, her nostrils flaring just slightly as she purses her lips. She doesn't like the idea of being vulnerable, and she likes hearing the words come out of Derek Hale's mouth even less. He doesn't know a thing about her, as far as she's concerned.

"You seem to be pretty educated in all things werewolf," she answers icily, glaring. "Can you teach me to shut him out of my mind for good?"

Derek hesitates. He seems to realize that he's hit a nerve. "Probably. But it would be difficult."

"I didn't ask if it would be difficult," Lydia snaps, because Lydia Martin has never once backed down from a challenge and she isn't about to start now. "I asked if you could teach me."

Lydia's reaction gives him pause and he looks her up and down, perhaps seeing her for the first time. Derek's heard stories about Lydia, but none of them ever included this side of her. He decides that this is a side of her that he would like to see again. "Yes," he answers, nodding solemnly.

"Well then," Lydia declares, hands on her hips and a pleased smirk painted across her lips. "Problem solved. Teach me how to block him out and I'll help you take him down." She isn't sure what she can do. She isn't a werewolf or any kind of supernatural being, but she is, apparently, immune, and that has to count for something.

To seal the deal, Lydia holds out her hand. This time there's no wolfsbane, no malice, no purpose other than her own: to get her life back. And from what she can tell, Derek wants his back too. And so, after a thoughtful moment, he reaches out and shakes her hand. He's surprised by how firm her grip is, but even more surprised by this unexpected change in events. Even Lydia isn't quite sure what it means for them. But they have a common goal now, and she's willing to go above and beyond to make sure that they achieve it.

**A/N: This is basically just a little ficlet to get back into the swing of writing. Plus I have an insane interest in Teen Wolf lately and Lydia x Derek just seems appealing. Anyways, reviews are appreciated and all of that. Thanks! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

They start right away. With Peter on the loose, Derek insists they're on a bit of a time crunch. Lydia doesn't argue. She doesn't have any right to argue, when it comes down to it. For the first time in years, she sits back and lets someone else call the shots. For the most part, anyways.

"What is he using against you?" Derek always has this no-nonsense air about him. He doesn't beat around the bush. It's one of the things that simultaneously irks Lydia and strikes her as respectable. But it also makes him seem cold and unattached, and Lydia isn't quite sure how she feels about that.

Lydia hesitates. She doesn't want to tell Derek about the images Peter put into her head. She doesn't want to discuss the nightmares and the threats. She definitely doesn't want to discuss the intense fear that lingered (and perhaps _still_ lingers) in the back of her head at the idea that she might, in fact, be completely insane. Pride keeps her from wanting to discuss everything, but her reasoning goes deeper than that. To put it simply, she doesn't _trust_ him. After all, he is a Hale. He is directly related to the beast that has made her life a living hell. If that isn't a reason to hesitate, she doesn't know what is.

"What does it matter?" she responds, adopting an air of nonchalance. "You're supposed to be helping me shut him out. When you get a degree in psychology, then we can discuss all of that other fun stuff."

This isn't the answer Derek is looking for, and he releases a little growl to show that he isn't pleased. Lydia rolls her eyes and looks down at her fingernails, no longer the perfectly pedicured things they once were. She isn't expecting the strong hand that tightens around her wrist, yanking her to her feet.

"This isn't a game, Lydia," Derek snarls through gritted teeth. "I don't know what his plan is, but I can guarantee that it isn't a good one. Are you serious about this or not?"

Lydia is suddenly aware of many things. She notes the close proximity, the lack of space between them. She can feel his breath, hot and scathing, against her skin. Pain radiates from her wrist, which he still hasn't released, and she can almost guarantee that her pale skin will bear bruises later on. Most important of all, she remembers in that moment that Derek is a werewolf, the same as Peter. Dangerous. Unpredictable. If he wanted to snap her neck, he could do it before she could even muster the will to scream.

Her eyes are suddenly wide and the fear acquired by this realization practically radiates from her. "Let go of me." Her voice is shaky and she curses herself for her weakness. Lydia swallows hard and tries again. "I said _let go of me._"

He obliges, releasing her and taking a step back. Lydia sinks back into her chair, watching him angrily. His irritation is still evident, however, in the way that he glares at her. "If you're serious about this, then I have to know what he said and what he did. He's clever. He can use you for whatever he wants." He pauses to see if his words are leaving a mark on her. "People could die, Lydia."

"So I'm a liability, is that what you're saying?" Her gaze is icy as she stares at him. Lydia Martin has been called a lot of things, but never a liability. He hasn't said it outright but she knows how to read people well enough to know that this is what he's getting at.

Derek doesn't even flinch. He has no reason to care about Lydia's feelings, and no time to spare them. Still, he seems to sense that she might start to be difficult again, and if he wants her to cooperate, he needs to change tactics. "Your friends don't want you to get hurt."

The new direction doesn't help matters. Lydia merely scoffs and crosses her arms to avoid being grabbed again. "Oh, my friends? Those people who didn't tell me what the hell has been going on for the past few weeks? The people who haven't spoken – _really _spoken – to me in weeks? The ones who wouldn't even listen when I tried to talk to them? Do you mean those friends? Yes, I'm sure they would be _so _heartbroken if something happened to me. God forbid."

Her voice rises a few notes as she speaks, color springing to her cheeks from anger. She doesn't know why she tells him all of this, or why she chooses now to say it, but it's as though a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. The bitterness has stuck with her for too long, and it's a relief to have someone other than Peter know just how left out and abandoned she's been feeling.

Derek doesn't say anything. He merely stands there, watching her, and it's all Lydia can do not to claw his eyes out for it. She hates that he never shows what he's thinking, or even how he's feeling. She can't tell if he pities her or if he thinks she's pathetic. Or maybe he just doesn't care. It's probably the latter, she decides.

Finally, Derek speaks. "What do you want?" He seems to notice the look of confusion that passes over Lydia's features. Nobody's really asked her what she wanted. Then again, she's never very quiet about the things she wants.

Lydia chews over this question for a moment. The answer comes out of nowhere, something she hasn't actively been thinking about, but it's clear that it's been in the back of her mind for a while. "I want answers," she announces finally, and her tone makes it clear that she will accept nothing else.

Derek lets out a sigh and sits in a chair across from her. He doesn't like to have deep, meaningful discussions about things that are better left buried, but he can see her resolve and knows that she won't help him unless he gives into this one demand. That's the thing he's noticed about Lydia; once she has something in her mind, it's incredibly unlikely that she'll ever give it up. "What do you want to know?" he asks, careful to make it painfully obvious that he's doing this reluctantly.

"How many werewolves are in Beacon Hills?" Peter was vague about the details. He told her only that there were werewolves in their town. And she knew about the full moon, the one that brought Peter Hale back from whatever state he'd been stuck in.

"Five. Well, six now." Lydia can't quite ignore the bitterness that edges into his voice when he makes his correction. There are six werewolves now because Lydia messed up. Because she helped to bring back the one that should have remained under the foundations of the Hale house.

"And you're all… in a pack?" Lydia doesn't know too much about werewolves, aside from what she's seen in Halloween movies and read in books about mythological creatures. To be honest, she's still trying to understand how werewolves can possibly exist, although she really should be past the stage of disbelief by now.

"Not exactly," Derek answers, and it seems like a sensitive topic. "It's difficult to explain."

Lydia is curious, but she senses that now isn't the time to ask about that particular subject, so she moves onto the next. "Does the Kanima exist?"

Derek's eyebrows pull together. "How do you know about the Kanima?"

"Please," Lydia responds, rolling her eyes. "Allison wasn't exactly secretive about it. She had me translate something for her from Archaic Latin, and her reaction was nothing short of weird. So I guess if werewolves can exist, I might as well cover all my bases and ask about that too."

Derek considers this before nodding solemnly. "It does." He doesn't go into detail. Something tells him that Lydia can't quite handle the idea of Jackson being the Kanima, not when he knows that there's some history between the two of them. For the life of him, he can't figure out why they were ever together, but that's something he doesn't care much about.

"Werewolves and Kanimas." Lydia shakes her head, trying to grasp the concept. "When did Beacon Hills become Halloweentown?" She raises an eyebrow. "So are there vampires? Witches? Fairies? Please tell me there are unicorns. I've always wanted a unicorn." Her tone is, against her better judgment, mocking. She can see the flare in Derek's nostrils, the tight line of his lips that shows he's not enjoying her commentary. Any sign of vague amusement disappears from her features and she becomes serious once more.

"How do you become a werewolf? You're not born that way, are you?"

Derek shakes his head. "No. You have to receive the bite from another werewolf. Sometimes, if the claws go deep enough, that can change someone too. But generally, it's the bite."

There's a vacant look in Lydia's eyes as she remembers that night on the lacrosse field. He'd come out of nowhere, and then there was just pain. Unimaginable pain. Her nightmares had started then, but she wasn't one of them. She wasn't a _werewolf_.

"Why am I still human? Fully human, I mean. I should be a werewolf." Lydia doesn't know exactly how she feels about this. It's something she'll have to think about later when she doesn't have Derek sitting two feet away from her.

"You're immune." Derek says it as though it's such a simple concept to understand. It's something Lydia's heard multiple times, but she doesn't get it. She doesn't quite comprehend what being immune entails.

"What do you mean, I'm immune?" she asks, and there's a slight agitation to her words. "What does that even mean? Everyone keeps talking about it like I should just automatically _get_ it." It's frustrating, to be clueless about something. Pretending to be clueless is something Lydia's gotten very good at, but actually being clueless is a completely different story.

"The bite doesn't affect you. Not in the way it would affect a normal person." Derek is surprisingly patient with his explanation. "You won't become a werewolf. But your immunity left you weak. It was temporary, but it gave Peter enough time to take advantage of the situation. He was able to get into your mind before you regained consciousness and control over yourself."

Lydia swallows thickly. "Has that happened before?"

"Not that I know of."

There's a long silence between them as Lydia ponders the information she's just been given. Peter Hale took over in a moment of weakness. But then… "How is he still able to get into my mind? I'm not weak anymore. I'm fully conscious." It sounds more defensive than anything. Lydia doesn't like the idea of not having control over her own mind and body. She doesn't like the idea of being weak.

"That's what we need to find out." Derek stands up, watching her calmly. "That's why I need to know what he's using against you."

Lydia still isn't sure if she trusts Derek. He still hasn't given her any reason to believe that they're anything more than convenient allies, and something about that makes her hesitate. What happens when she helps him? What becomes of her then? Will he really just let them go their separate ways? But Lydia decides that it's worth the risk. Derek can help her be normal again. He can help her to truly be free. So Lydia tells him everything.

**A/N:** So I did decide to draw this out instead of leaving it as a one-shot. Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for the awesome reviews! Hopefully you'll like this chapter too. Reviews and critiques are more than welcome, as usual.**

Lydia tells him everything. She tells him about being drawn out of her hospital room and into the forest. She tells him about her recurring nightmares, about the actions she doesn't remember committing, about the younger manifestation of Peter. She wonders how crazy she must seem, but as usual, Derek doesn't allude to anything he might be thinking or feeling on the matter.

"I'm starting to think your face would shatter if you ever cracked a smile," Lydia interjects halfway through her retelling. It's ill-timed but she's suffocating under the seriousness of the situation and she desperately needs something to lighten the mood.

"I'm starting to think you're supremely annoying," Derek responds. If a lightened mood is what Lydia is after, she's in the wrong place with the wrong person.

"Do you even _have_ friends?" It's Lydia's default method of hiding that she is actually somewhat bothered by his comment. Never let them see your weakness. Instead, attack theirs. Derek is a loner when it comes down to it. He's got Isaac, and Erica, and Boyd, but even then, he keeps to himself. Lydia isn't sure if it's by choice or not. Does anyone really know?

"No." His statement is so short and matter-of-fact that it takes her by surprise. Lydia isn't sure what she was expecting, but it's not that. "Can we get back on track now, or are you too preoccupied with my life to focus?"

"I'm not preoccupied with anything that even closely relates to you," Lydia counters, copping an attitude. "But yes, we can continue." Lydia ignores the way her stomach drops as she thinks about discussing the topic at hand again, but it has to be done. She takes a deep breath and plunges ahead.

"My birthday was supposed to go on without a hitch," she begins, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "I didn't plan on having a party this year. I couldn't handle the staring. I mean, I'm used to stares but it isn't the same kind of stare anymore."

She adopts that faraway look that Derek has seen many times that night as she discusses Peter's threat, the big threat that pushed his plan into forward motion. This is a side to Lydia that not many people probably see. Despite the façade she puts on for others, Lydia is a caring person. It's evident enough in the fact that she did what Peter told her to in order to spare so many lives. In spite of himself, Derek finds that he respects this, and maybe even respects her.

"And that's why I did what I did," Lydia finishes, looking down. There's something akin to shame in her expression, and Derek can't help that he feels a little sorry for her, for being so annoyed with her. He's been understanding enough, but that doesn't hide the fact that he was angry, that he was bitter. Not completely. Now he knows what she's been through, and he finds that he isn't quite as angry. He feels sorry for her. He wants to find a way to make her feel better. And that is quite alarming.

"You said there was a younger version of Peter?" Derek's back to business, desperate to focus on something other than these weird thoughts.

"Yes." Her answer is somewhat hesitant. She wonders if he's going to tell her that she's being ridiculous, that there couldn't possibly be a younger version of Peter. It was all in her head. And maybe it was. She's suddenly regretting that she ever told Derek about it. Unfortunately there isn't a rewind button in life.

"And he got you to kiss him?"

Derek is being completely businesslike, and yet Lydia can't help but to fidget uncomfortably. Because it sounds horrible, the idea of her kissing Peter Hale, illusion or not. But Peter had been there when no one else had been. He'd paid attention to her, and as much as she wished she could say otherwise, she'd appreciated that about him. He'd made her feel… wanted.

"Yes," she responds quietly, avoiding his gaze. She wonders if he knows there's more to it. Probably. Derek Hale doesn't seem to miss much.

He's silent for a while, but then he clears his throat. "Well. I think I know how he managed to get so deep into your mind."

Lydia looks up, her eyes wide with curiosity. If Derek knows how Peter's managed to get so much control over her mind, maybe that means they're one step closer to shutting him out completely. "How?"

"He made you feel attached to him. He manipulated your emotions. By doing so, he created a bond between the two of you."

His words send a chill down her spine. Attached? As in she'd grown to feel something for him? At least, that's the way she takes it. But now all she feels is revulsion. She's disgusted at the very idea of being anywhere _near_ Peter Hale, let alone romantically linked to him. Lydia clutches her stomach, fearful for a moment that she might be sick. When the feeling passes, she's surprised to see Derek standing closer to her, everything about his stance looking tense. She eyes him uncertainly as he shakes his head and returns to his seat.

"So you're saying I have _feelings_ for him?" Lydia shakes her head emphatically, standing. She hardly notices that Derek is on his feet again. "No. No, it isn't that. He's… he's psychotic! He's a killer! I don't feel anything towards him but hatred and disgust and a strong urge to rip him to shreds and be done with it!"

Her voice is frenzied. Her expression is panicked, almost crazed. She hates that she doesn't have full control over her mind, her body, or even her emotions anymore. What happened to Lydia Martin, the most popular girl in school? The one who controlled every little detail of her life, including the way others saw her? What happened to her? Lydia wants that version of herself back.

She's so caught up in her thoughts that Lydia doesn't notice Derek taking a few steps forward until his hands are on her shoulders. Reluctantly, she meets his gaze, and is surprised to see an unfamiliar softness in them.

"Relax," he murmurs, and she nods once. "That's not exactly what I was saying. Peter's cunning. He knows where to hit. He knows weaknesses. Yours is your loneliness." He pauses, expecting some kind of argument, but Lydia says nothing. "He made you trust him, in a way. He made you feel like he cared. When you kissed him, or this younger manifestation of him, you basically sealed the deal and inadvertently gave him permission into your mind, more so than he'd been permitted before."

Despite his grip on them, Lydia's shoulders slump a little bit. Usually she's so strong. All it took was that one moment of weakness, and Peter Hale completely took over. She vows, then and there, not to be weak anymore. She can't afford to be weak. The world is no place for weakness. It preys upon it. Lydia straightens up again. "So now what?" she asks, looking up at him.

"Well." Derek releases her shoulders, crossing his arms. "Now that you're _aware_ of the situation, you'll know what to look out for. Now that Peter's essentially back from the dead, I don't think he'll be in your head much. He's a living being now, rather than an entity. But just in case he does somehow try again, you'll know not to let him get the better of you. Right?" He waits for her to nod before continuing. "Either way, I won't be straying too far away until he's taken care of."

Some of the life floods back into Lydia's face as she looks at him, eyebrows raised skeptically. "Excuse me?"

"You're stuck with me for a while," Derek repeats grimly. He can sense a fight, and he's not really in the mood to deal with it. Then again, when is he ever?

"What do you mean, I'm _stuck_ with you? I have a home to go to. A family who will want to know why there's some creepy guy following me around everywhere. Not to mention _school_, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to be there. What am I supposed to tell people? 'Oh, hey guys, don't mind him, he's just my guard dog until his psychotic werewolf of an uncle is buried six feet underground again.' I'm sure that would go over _so_ well."

Derek glares at her, his jaw set and his lips in a tight line. "Trust me, Lydia. This is going to be as irritating for me as it is for you. But you're going to be one of his targets. Your immunity is valuable to him."

"Yeah, but _why_?"

"I don't know," Derek admits. "That's what I need to start figuring out. But in the meantime, you're not leaving my sight. Got it?"

Lydia doesn't like being ordered around, but she knows from his expression and his tone that this topic isn't up for debate. She crosses her arms, looking a bit like a petulant child, and looks away. "Fine," she mutters. If this is the way it's going to be from now on, she's at least going to find ways to take advantage of it. She imagines, briefly, an expensive shopping spree with him holding onto all of her bags. Yes, that sounds like something she could deal with…

"Lydia!" Derek barks, and his eyebrows are furrowed in anger and frustration as she snaps out of her reverie.

"God, _what_?" she snaps, trying not to look completely startled.

"I told you to get home. Now."

There's something different in his stance, in the way he speaks, in the way he's looking at her. Panic starts to creep its way up her spine again. "What is it?" she demands, doing everything she can to keep her voice steady. But she can tell that he isn't listening to her. He's focused on something else, something probably miles away.

"Go home, Lydia. Run and don't stop until you get there." And then, before she can even argue or tell him that she's angry with him for choosing _now_ to abandon her, after everything they've just discussed, he's running out of the dilapidated building that used to be his home. She follows to the front door, but he's gone in the blink of an eye.

"You've got to be kidding me," she mutters under her breath. But he seemed pretty urgent about her getting home, and she knows better than to stand around and wait for something to happen. So she runs. She runs into the darkness of the forest, unsure of whether it's the right direction or not. All she knows is that she can't stop running. She can never stop running.


	4. Chapter 4

It's completely dark now. Lydia becomes painfully aware of this as she treks through the forest, dodging trees, trying to watch where she steps. The only light comes from the moon above, and even that isn't a comfort to her. Not now, not after everything she's learned. If nothing else, the sight of the moon brings more terror into her mind. She knows what lurks in the moonlight, and she wishes more than anything that she didn't.

Her fear propels her forward. She stomps through the forest, breathless, her head turning every which way, wondering if she really heard a twig snap nearby or if it was just her imagination. Maybe it was an animal. She can't be sure anymore. She doesn't want to think about it. _Keep going_, she tells herself. _Keep moving, Lydia. Do what Derek said._

But she doesn't know where she's going. Even in the light of day, Lydia doesn't like to wander around the woods. She doesn't know her way around it as well as some of the other residents of Beacon Hills seem to. Trying to travel the area at night is almost impossible for her. She remembers when she was pulled from her hospital room, how she'd spent hours in the forest, wandering, lost. It'd been getting so cold then too. At least it isn't so cold now. At least she isn't _naked_.

Lydia stops running, allowing herself to catch her breath. She feels as though she's been running for hours without making any progress. How long has she really been out here? And where is Derek? What was so important that he had to leave her alone, after telling her that she would not be leaving his sight?

"Jerk," she mutters under her breath. She should probably give him the benefit of the doubt. If it wasn't something incredibly pressing, he probably wouldn't have taken off the way he did. At least, she hopes he wouldn't. That would make him unreliable, and the last thing Lydia needs in her life right now is unreliability. She gets enough of that from her so-called friends.

Leaning up against a nearby tree, Lydia pushes some copper hair from her face. She realizes in that moment just how tired she really is. The day – her _birthday_ – has been long, hard, and stressful. She's learned more than she could possibly wish to know in the matter of a short few hours. What she wants is to go home and sink onto her mattress and sleep for days. But it's Wednesday, and she knows that regardless of what's happened, she'll be expected to go to school tomorrow.

She's trying to think of other things while her breath regulates when she hears it: the rustling of leaves nearby. It can't be more than a few feet away, and it's much too loud and forceful to be the wind. Immediately, all of her senses are heightened. She's on high alert now. Lydia can feel every movement her body makes, can feel the urge to start running and never look back. But she wonders if that would be a bad decision. Whatever made that sound… There's no guaranteeing that it knows she's there. Or that it's even a threat.

Lydia peers into the darkness, her breathing uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. Although she hates to feel dependent on anyone, she wishes in that moment that Derek hadn't left her. At least with him nearby, she doesn't feel so defenseless. She may be immune, but she isn't immortal, and she certainly isn't in any position to fight back if the situation calls for it.

She's ready to pass it off as a deer – she _needs_ to pass it off as something innocent and harmless – when she sees them. There, in the distance, is a pair of bright red eyes. Her breathing becomes heavier as the terror rises in her throat, threatening to spill out. No. Not here. Not now.

She turns to run in the opposite, but there he is. He leers at her, a smirk on his face. "Don't tell me you're afraid," Peter murmurs. "I thought we were old friends, Lydia." Lydia turns her head in the direction of the eyes, but they're gone. When she turns back to look at Peter, she's met with nothing. He isn't there anymore. Is this some sort of hallucination? Lydia takes a few steps back, stumbling in the darkness. If he's here, she should run. She knows she should run. Derek told her to keep running.

Something touches her ankle and the scream she's been holding in for the past few moments finally erupts from her throat, shrill and bloodcurdling. Without another moment's hesitation, she's running again. She doesn't know where she's going, or if anything's following her, but she can't think about it now. She can't think about anything but home. She needs to be there. She needs to be there right now, tucked safely into her warm bed.

Her foot catches on something and she falls forward, hard and fast. She lets out a shriek as she falls, groaning in pain as her head makes contact with something hard. It feels as though the world is spinning. Lydia struggles to push herself onto her back. The world gives an unexpected tilt and she closes her eyes tightly to keep from getting dizzy. But when she opens them, she's met with something she isn't expecting to see. A pair of red eyes linger over her. Lydia lets out one last scream before the world closes in on her, darkness descending upon her.

* * *

Everything is hazy. Lydia doesn't know when she woke up; she doesn't even remember waking up. All she knows is that she's awake, that she's aware, and that her surroundings are… lacking. She turns every which way, but she sees nothing. No furniture, no roof, no ground. "Am I dead?" she murmurs, surprised that her voice works. If this is death, then it isn't so bad. At least her head isn't pounding anymore. At least the world has stopped spinning like a top.

"You're not dead."

Lydia jumps. Where did that voice come from? She turns, peering through the haze. Finally, she finds him. He's walking leisurely towards her, a little smirk on his face. It's something she hasn't seen from him before, but it's a nice change to the constant brooding.

"No thanks to you," she snaps, and it's as though nothing's happened, as though nothing's changed. She's still her usual, sassy self.

"Come on, Lydia." Derek lets out a low chuckle as he stops before her. "You don't need my protection. You're plenty capable of taking care of yourself. You just have to believe it."

Lydia looks up at him, trying to decide if his words are genuine or if he's just mocking her. But nothing in his expression gives away his intentions. Figures. She decides to take his words at face value, even if she doesn't necessarily think it's true. "Where the hell did you go?"

Derek shrugs. "I had some business to take care of." Lydia knows better than to expect any further explanation than that.

"Well, you could have said so, instead of just leaving me high and dry." Lydia crosses her arms, pouting a little bit. Because pouting generally gets her exactly what she wants, and right now, she wants an apology from Derek Hale. "I hit my head because of you."

"You're the one who tripped," Derek counters, raising an eyebrow. This only serves to infuriate Lydia, and he laughs. "Fine, you're right. I frightened you. Shouldn't have done that. What do you want me to do, kiss it and make it feel better?"

This sparks a little idea in Lydia's head and a mischievous smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "_Actually_…" Lydia's feeling unusually bold at the moment, and she decides to monopolize on that while she has the chance. She closes off the space between them and presses her lips to his. It's a gentle kiss, allowing him a chance to back away if he feels the need. But he doesn't, and she's grateful.

Derek takes the lead much sooner than Lydia would have expected. He's kissing her more insistently, _hungrily_. One hand tangles in her hair, the other pressing upon the small of her back to bring her closer to him. She nips his lower lip, vaguely aware of the electric waves pulsating through her skin at his very touch.

He tears his lips from hers, planting heated kisses across her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone. Lydia's head falls back slightly as she closes her eyes. "Derek…" His name comes out as a sigh. Slowly, she opens her eyes again, but when she does, she's bewildered to find that Derek isn't there anymore. Nobody is there. She's all alone, and yet she can still feel the patches of warmth on her skin where his lips once were.

Lydia is still trying to figure out what the hell is going on when everything starts to blur and the darkness descends once more.

* * *

Sunlight streams through the blinds. Lydia can see it through her eyelids. Already, it makes her head hurt. "So bright," she murmurs, her voice hoarse. She doesn't know where she is, or who is with her. Someone _is_ with her, though. Whoever it is quickly closes the shades on the window, leaving them in relative darkness. If her head wasn't aching so much, Lydia knows she would be more fearful. At the moment, though, she is only resigned. She's so exhausted.

With some effort, she opens her eyes. She's surprised by what she sees. She's in her bedroom – in her _bed_ – the covers tucked around her. Lydia surveys her surroundings slowly. Her bedroom, in her house… So is her mother with her? It doesn't take long for her to see him standing a few feet away. "Derek?" her voice is incredulous, confused even. She moves to sit up, but there's a sharp stab of pain in her temple and she winces.

"Don't." Derek takes a few steps forward, his hand raised, signaling her to stay put. "You took a bit of a fall last night." He focuses on the wound on her head. It looks better than it did a few hours ago. She didn't move much in her sleep, so he'd been able to clean it fairly easily.

"Derek." Her voice is quiet as she beckons him forward. He obliges, and as soon as he's within range, Lydia raises her hand and aims a nice slap at his face. Unfortunately, he's much faster. His fingers catch her wrist, curling around them automatically. "You abandoned me, you asshole!" She's not feeling the greatest, and the sudden movement has done a number on her equilibrium, but her voice is surprisingly fierce. She hopes he knows how angry she is with him for leaving her alone.

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have a reason," he mutters in response, letting go of her wrist. Just to be safe, though, he takes a step back. "How's your head? I wouldn't be surprised if you have a concussion."

Lydia's eyes widen in indignation and she tilts her head slightly – a terrible idea, as the sudden dizziness reminds her. "Are you an _imbecile_? You never let someone with a concussion fall asleep! They could fall into a coma. They could _die_."

Derek is unfazed by this show of theatrics. "I knew you weren't dead," he responds, shaking his head slightly. "You were muttering in your sleep."

Lydia's expression is suddenly full of surprise and concern. "What was I muttering?" She tries to keep her tone light and curious, but she knows that it fails.

"I don't know," Derek answers, shrugging. "I couldn't make out a word of it. I only know you were talking."

"Oh." Lydia tries not to look relieved, but she fails at that too. "Well. You're very lucky, then. If I'd died, you would have been screwed."

"Lydia?" The two of them freeze as her mother's voice drifts through the air. "Lydia? You're going to be late for school."

Lydia's eyes widen as her mother's footsteps draw closer. Hastily, she gestures towards the closet door, directing Derek to disappear in hurried whispers. He's just barely closed the door when her mother pops her head in the doorway. "Lydia, what…?"

"Hi, Mom. I'm actually… not feeling the greatest today. I have a splitting headache. Um… Would you mind if I stayed home?" It isn't often that Lydia asks to stay home from school. Usually her mother doesn't ask too many questions, but there must be something in Lydia's expression that makes her pause.

"Is everything alright, sweetheart?" Her mother watches her carefully, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine," Lydia reassures her quickly. "I just fell out of bed last night and hit my head on the nightstand. I think I might have a bit of a lump."

"Oh, honey. Let me see." Before Lydia can protest, her mother swoops over to her bed, taking a look at her head. "Lydia! You said this is from your nightstand? How hard did you fall?"

Lydia shakes her head, immediately regretting it. "I'm fine, Mom. I was just having a nightmare and I guess I kicked myself right out of bed. I'll be fine. I just need to rest."

Her mother doesn't look as though she's fully appeased by this explanation, but she nods. "Alright, Lydia. I'll call and let the office know you won't be in today. If you need anything at all today, you know my number." She looks as though she might offer to stay home. Lydia can practically see the idea moving through her mind. Thankfully, she doesn't.

"Thanks, Mom." Lydia forces a smile and watches as her mother leaves the room. It isn't until her footsteps completely fade that Derek reemerges from her closet. "So is this how it's going to be? Me lying to my parents while you hide in my closet?"

"If that's what it takes to keep people safe, then yeah." There's an edge to his voice. He isn't overly fond of her attitude. He saved her life, after all.

"What were you doing last night that was so important?" she demands, slowly raising herself into a sitting position. Lydia struggles with it a bit, and finally Derek gives in and helps her sit up the rest of the way.

"Something was going on in town." Lydia gives him a look that could quite possibly kill, and he grits his teeth. "One of the kids you go to school with was causing some trouble at the police station. Matt something or other."

"Matt?" Her eyebrows knit together as she tries to place the name. "Matt… That creepy photographer who's obsessed with Allison?"

"I guess." Derek doesn't know who's obsessed with whom. He doesn't care. "He was…" He looks up at her, deciding it's best to keep things honest. Everyone else in her friend group knows what's happening; she might as well too. "He was the master of the Kanima. He got away. Not sure where he went."

"That seems like a bigger deal than you're making it out to be," Lydia observes, raising an eyebrow at him.

"It's none of your concern either way," Derek responds quickly. Lydia just rolls her eyes.

"Look, I've been through hell and back lately. I've been possessed or manipulated or whatever by some crazed werewolf, I've got my own watchdog, and there's a crazy lizard creature going around killing people. I think I have every right to make this my concern now." She notices Derek starting to protest and holds a hand up. "Don't bother. I'm involved now, whether you like it or not. And don't even think about trying to shield me from all of this crap. If I don't find out from you, I'll find out from someone else. But mark my words, Derek Hale, I _will_ find out."

Her eyes are fierce as she watches him, gauging his reaction. He isn't pleased, but he doesn't make any further attempts to argue. "Fine," he mutters, and she can tell that it takes him a lot of effort to bring himself to do it. "If you're going to insist on being included, then I need you to do something."

"What do I need to do?" Lydia is eager, perhaps a little too eager, but it's been so long since she's felt useful.

"Figure out what the hell Allison Argent is up to."

* * *

**A/N**: As usual, thank you for the awesome reviews. I'm glad everyone is enjoying this so far!

I really wanted to incorporate the events from the latest episode for future plot devices, so everything that happened in "Fury" has happened as far as the timeline of this fanfiction is concerned.


End file.
